They reached Anchorage at four in the afternoon.
The city came at them gradually, the way Alaskan cities do, wide spaces first and then gas stations and then low commercial buildings and then actual streets with actual traffic and the particular density of a place where people have decided to concentrate themselves against the surrounding wilderness. After weeks of farmhouses and logging roads and trees in every direction the city felt loud even though it wasn't especially loud by any normal measure.
Emma pressed her face against the window and watched it go by.
Jenna had arranged two hotel rooms in a building downtown that was unremarkable in the specific way that safe houses are unremarkable, the kind of place nobody remembers staying in because nothing about it asks to be remembered.
